Welcome To The Family
by MagnusPr1m3
Summary: Songfic to welcome to the family by avenged sevenfold. Thiefshipping. Marik has been living with his abusive father since... well, forever really. But, when he finally makes friends with these two strange twins, will his problems start to disappear?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_HEY KID! Do I have your attention?_

_I know the way you been livin'_

_Life's so reckless, tragedy endless_

_Welcome to the family_

* * *

><p>"Marik!" A gruff, obviously drunken, voice calls. "Where are you hiding, you little" -hiccup- "bitch?" The cowering boy hears heavy footsteps enter his room. "I know you're in here!" The voice bellows before ripping the sheets off of the Egyptian teens body. "Found you,"<p>

A drunken smirk spreads across the mans face as Marik cowers in fear, tears running down his tan face from violet eyes.

Just another day in hell.

* * *

><p>"Marik Ishtar!"<p>

Marik's head snaps up from where it was resting upon the desk. He yawns, and the rest of his class erupts in laughter. "Yes, sensei?" He asks, purposely shoving as much uninterest into his voice as he could.

"See me after class." The teacher replies, his voice thick with a few emotions Marik can't pinpoint. The class then erupts in a chorus of,

"Ooooo!"

"You all are a bunch of pricks," Marik hisses under his breath.

"Mr. Ishtar!" The teacher yells, having heard Marik's comment.

"I know," Marik growls, standing up and exiting the room with nothing.

No one bothers to ask why he doesn't have anything; Marik never brings anything to school.

* * *

><p>Marik enters the near barren classroom, it's only other occupant being one of Marik's classmates, Bakura Touzoukou. The albino-looking Brit doesn't look up as Marik clears his throat. This just frustrates the Egyptian.<p>

"Hey!" He yells at the whitette.

"What?" Bakura asks, his voice full of all the uninterest that Marik had shown his teacher earlier.

"Where's sensei?" Marik asks, trying to return his cold attitude. But, Marik can't quite say it like Bakura. Something about the accent makes it sound crueler.

"Why the bloody hell would I know?"

"Maybe because you are in detention, also?" Marik's retort seems to strike a cord in the other teen's heart. Bakura quickly wipes the expression away from his face, but not before the blond catches it.

"Whatever," Bakura grumbles, going back to what he was doing before.

Marik creeps up behind where Bakura sits in a desk in the middle of the classroom. He peers over the albino's shoulder, trying to sneak a peek at what the boy is trying to hide. Marik's eyes fall upon a drawing, a very good drawing, too. But a teacher might think otherwise; it's of a dead body. It's obviously Bakura himself, although it's somewhat hard to tell because the person has no facial features.

"That's cool," Marik says, and he immediately regrets the statement.

Bakura whips around and smacks him, leaving a nice red hand print on tan skin. "Mind your own damn business, you buggering bastard!"

Marik rubs his cheek subconsciously as he glares at the albino's back which faces him once more. "I said it looked cool, Jesus! What the frig is your problem?"

"Worse than any problem you'll ever have to deal with it," Bakura whispers, his voice sounding eerie and foreboding.

Marik snorts in response, but immediately slaps his hand over his mouth. Unfortunately, he tends to speak without thinking about what he's saying beforehand.

Bakura whips around once again, "You think you've got worse problems than me?"

Marik isn't able to control his comments this time. "Think?" He yells back. "I KNOW! There is not a SINGLE person who has it worse than me!"

"How do you know?" Bakura growls, suddenly standing in front of Marik, glaring with crimson eyes into the blond's violet ones.

Marik returns the glare, "Because."

Bakura lets out a frustrated huff. "Because you are probably some spoiled rich bitch who has her britches in a twist because she didn't get that eyeliner," Bakura points to Mariks oddly applied, yet very cool looking, eyeliner. "That they wanted."

Marik slaps Bakura this time, the force of it sending the whitette stumbling backwards. "Don't you even TRY to understand my problems!"

And with one last glare at the Brit, he stomps out of the classroom. He leans against the lockers next to it for a second, trying to compose himself. Tears starts to trickle down his face as he presses his forehead against the cool locker. He slams his right fist against, trying so hard to force the tears back.

"Marik?" Bakura's voice calls as he exits the room, too. He finds the blond leaning against the lockers crying his eyes out. He walks over to him, "Are you okay?"

"Go away," Marik's voice quivers a little, but his statement is filled with hatred anyways.

"Do you-"

"Go."

And with one last worried glance, Bakura retreated back to the classroom.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Hey, there's something missing_

_Only time will alter your vision_

_Never in question, lethal injection_

_Welcome to the family_

* * *

><p>The doorbell rings and Marik immediately gets up from where he sits in his room to go get it. He creeps by his father's still sleeping figure where the man lies sprawled upon the couch. He reaches the door, still having bit awoken the drunken beast, much too his relief. He opens it, not quite wanting to look through the peephole- he thought the invention of it was a waste of time.<p>

Before him stand Bakura and Ryou Touzoukou, a pair of twins who were both cursed to be albino. Ryou, unlike his brother, was sweeter, a kindred spirit. He was very shy, though. His facial features and the way he styles his hair even suggest how much nicer he is than his twin.

"Hello," Ryou greets timidly.

"Hi, Ryou," Marik replies, trying to ignore the steady, blank stare Bakura was throwing at him. "Do you need something?"

"Um... N-no," He studders shyly. "We- Bakura and I- were just wondering if you were alright?" It sounds like more of a question than a statement, although Marik supposes that is what it is meant to be.

"Peachy," He says, throwing on his best fake smile.

"You're lying," Bakura says, finally deciding to add his voice to their conversation.

"I think I would know if I was lying," Marik hisses at him. "Now, I have homework to go do. Good bye." Marik starts to shut the door, but a hand grasp his shoulder firmly and he instantly freezes.

"Who are these" -hiccup- "boys? They come to beat ya up, you lil' bitch?" His drunk father laughs before pushing him out the door and into poor Ryou, who almost falls. "Go on, boys. Teach my bitch" - another hiccup- "to be a man."

Bakura stares at the man in awe, 'This is his son.' He thinks, 'Why the hell would he tell us to beat him up?' He glances over at Marik who is now cowering against Ryou, his eyes wide with fear and his pupils practically nonexistent.

"We aren't here to beat up Marik," Bakura replies, knowing his twin won't have the guts to speak. "We just came to say hi; we are some of Marik's friends from school."

The man's face contorts in confusion before he laughs, "Marik don't have no friends. He's just a worthless little shit."

Bakura can't believe this man. He is making fun of his own son, even told him and Ryou to beat Marik up. 'Is this what Marik meant when he said no one has it worse than him?'

Bakura steps in front of Ryou and Marik protectively. "Sir," He begins, attempting to sound polite. "Marik may be frustrating, but he isn't a worthless little shit." Bakura says, trying to defend the boy who always found a way to get under his skin. "And he's your son; I'm sure you don't mean any of what you're saying."

A hand collides with Bakura's face, sending him stumbling backwards for the second time that day. He backs into poor Marik, who in turn falls on Ryou, who lands on the ground with a thud that sends all the air out of his lungs. Marik quickly rolls off of him, helping the smaller of the two albino's off the ground. He turns to see a Bakura who is practically bristling with anger, fists clenched and pressed firmly against his sides, an obvious attempt to restrain himself.

"Listen, you fucking wanker!" Bakura hisses, "Stop being a damned ass!"

Marik's father laughs, "Or what, fluffy?" He casually flicks one of the pieces of hair Bakura teases daily to stand kind of like a cat ear.

No one, except Bakura, remembers what happens next.

* * *

><p><em>AN- Short chapter, I know. But, next chapter is pretty long for a songfic chapter, so yeah. Anyways, please Review!_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Not long ago you'd find the answers_

_Were so crystal clear_

_Within a day you find yourself_

_Living in constant fear_

_Can you look at yourself now?_

_Can you look at yourself?_

_You can't win this fight_

* * *

><p><strong>About two weeks later<strong>

Marik rolls out of his comfy bed, stretching like a cat does when it first wakes up from a pleasant nap. The past 13 days had been like heaven for the 16 year old. His dad had kept his distance after Ryou and Bakura had come over, and had even stopped drinking. Marik, for the first time in a long time, didn't have a single bruise or cut on his whole body. But there would always be scars.

Marik looks at the mirror in the corner of his small room, examining his shirtless form. He was in nice shape, a nice little four pack sitting were many a person had a gut. He was actually quite proud of himself, for there was not a single flabby spot on his body.

He goes over to the small dresser he keeps his clothes, pulling the middle drawer open. He pulls out an off-white cotton hooded T that only came down to about two inches above his waistline. It shows off his midriff in a way that would make any girl faint, and several guys for that matter. But, Marik only cared about one guy: a certain Bakura Touzoukou.

Marik pulls open another drawer to grab a pair of purple and black plaid shorts, pulling them on over a pair of Egyptian cotton boxers. He goes back to look in the mirror, making sure his appearance is presentable. He seems satisfied with his outfit until he remembers his gold jewelry, having forgotten to throw it on. He puts on the gold choker, earrings, and wrist bands then is officially deemed presentable by his vanity. He exits his room, yelling a good bye to his father before then exiting the house.

He starts walking down the sidewalk in a direction he had become very familiar with, having gone this way at least twice a week ever since the Touzoukou twins visited.

He was going to go hang out with Bakura.

* * *

><p>"That's not how you use that card, you wanker," Bakura hisses, several thoughts running through his head as he corrects the blond's dueling strategy. None of them ended in a good way... Or really a bad one for that matter. Just not in a way Bakura wanted them to end.<p>

"Of course it is!" Marik yells, crossing his arms in front his chest in indignation. "How else am I supposed to play it, if not the way it _**SAYS**_ on the friggin' card?" Marik picks the spell card up off their playing field and shoves it into Bakura's face, all in one, swift movement. "See?"

Bakura fights several temptations he faces at the moment, all while processing a way to get back at the infuriating Egyptian. Thankfully, Ryou walks in, laughing at the way Marik has his hand in Bakura's face, who is unaware of the middle finger being thrown at him through the card. "Are you two hungry, because I just made a salad-" Bakura shoots him a look. "-and I pulled a steak out for you, brother, don't worry."

"Starving!" Marik yells, his child-like attention span kicking in. The only things Marik ever really focused on were his appearance, one of his-not so-evil plots, and insult competitions in which he and Bakura often partook in. Marik jumps up from where he sits across the table from Bakura, throws his five cards down on the table, and follows Ryou to the kitchen.

Bakura stands up slowly, collecting his cards and putting Marik's into a nice little stack on the table they'd been dueling at. He rolls his eyes as he hears a thud, probably the blond teen tripping. Sure enough, a string of intricate swear words reachs his ears, confirming his suspicions. He imagines Ryou helping the tan boy off of the floor, them both clinging to each other. Their eyes meeting, a blush creeping onto the two young faces then-

No! His inner voice screams. No! You will not get jealous if that does happen, though it wouldn't. Ryou doesn't have the guts to make a move on Marik.

But you don't either, his inner voice taunts.

"Why is it so damn hard to tell someone you like them?" He growls softly so no one can hear.

* * *

><p>Marik opens the front door, happily prancing in the not so dirty house. He takes the coat that Bakura let him borrow off as he practically skips into the living room where he freezes as a smell hits his nose.<p>

He immediately turns right back to the door, not even thinking. He tries to put the jacket back on as he reaches for the doorknob. He was not planning on staying around if his dad was drinking once more.

Something cracks against his head and he collapses onto the floor. His visions blurs as he feels wetness begin to drench the back of his head. He tries to pull himself into a sitting position, but something kicks him back down.

"You're back, ya lil' bitch," A drunken voice he'd thought gone hiccups as the owner kneels down towards his ear to whisper it. The smell of alcohol reaches him and he fights the urge to puke. "I missed ya; did ya miss me too?" The voice almost slurs the words as Marik feels tears streak his face.

Just when the day had seemed perfect, it is ruined.

* * *

><p>Marik pulls his school uniform on, careful of the bruises he had reacquired. He whimpers as he bend over to tie his shoes, the newly added future scars on his back reopening underneath their bandages.<p>

He quickly grabs his backpack, something he hadn't used in forever, and gently pulls it on before exiting the house.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Marik," A deep voice greets him from behind. There is a slight edge to the voice and he turns to see Bakura, whose eyes seem locked on his backside.<p>

"Don't be such a perv, 'Kura!" He yells, shielding his rear end as he tries to hide his wince at the sudden movement.

"Are you bleeding?" The albino hisses, ripping the backpack off of Marik's back and gaping at the nicely developed red splotch. He begins to yank the boys jacket off, to which Marik gives several whimpers but finds no energy to actually fight back.

After he removes the jacket, Bakura notices all the bruises up and down Marik's arms, along with several jagged cuts. He growls, "Who did this?"

Marik simply whimpers, wrapping his arms around him. He is glad they are at their usual lunch time spot, an old Sakura Tree behind the gym; it would seem odd if people saw how Bakura was now unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his heavily bruised and poorly wrapped up torso.

The whitette removes the button-down shirt from his friend and gasps at the blood drenched bandages and the bruises- or what really looked like one big bruise- that surrounded the boys body. Tan skin now held a purplish hue, and it looks as sickly as Bakura feels. How could someone do such thing to their own kid? His fists clench at his side as his teeth grind together.

"What is underneath your bandage?" He murmurs through his teeth, not really wanting to know the answer.

"It's nothing, Bakura," Marik whispers as a gust of cool wind sends a nice chill through his seemingly hot back, easing the pain for a mere second before it reignites itself.

"Don't you bloody lie to me, Ishtar," Bakura hisses, pushing the boy up against the tree, having forgotten the injuries in his yelps, trying to claw the hand now positioned at his neck away.

"B-bakura! You're h-h-hurting me!" He gives out one last pain-filled cry before Bakura snaps back to 'normality' and releases his grip.

"What is it?" He tries to refrain from growling, but doesn't really succeed.

"He-he came up behind me," Marik stutters. "H-he had a kn-knife, said if I didn't l-listen and st-stay quiet, he'd do more than... Than..." Marik breaks into sobs, collapsing into Bakura's arms.

Bakura controls his urge to march to the sobbing blond's home and beat the living shit out of his father; the only thing keeping him there is the emotionally fragile blond who's currently clings to his body for dear life. He wraps his arms lightly around the boy clinging tightly to his blue striped shirt, unsure of what to do. Bakura wasn't really one who tried to comfort people, in fact, he was often the one causing people's pain.

"Um, it'll be okay," Bakura whispers to the blond boy who quivers against him. "You can-"

And Marik instantly breaks out of his grip and runs off, still missing a shirt.

* * *

><p><em>AN-Oh goodness..._


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N-2 updates in one day to make up for my absence_

* * *

><p>Chapter 4<p>

_In a way it seems_

_There's no one to call_

_When our thoughts are so numb_

_And our feelings unsure_

_We all have emptiness inside_

_We all have answers to find_

_But you can't win this fight_

* * *

><p>Marik sprints off of the school grounds, ignoring all the kids yelling at him to put a shirt on, or laughing at the fact that he's in tears. He runs in no particular direction, ignoring the screeching of car tires. He keeps running even when he can't see through walls of tears, when his body aches, and even when he is shaking from not only the sobs but the cool air on his bare chest.<p>

He bumps into several people, most of which who yell at him in frustration before calling out, "Hey, kid! Are you okay?", as he runs off.

He finally stops, having ended up under a highway bridge. He looks around and sees nothing but sewage and weeds. He feels a cold chill run down his sore spine as a chilly gale runs underneath the highway he is hiding beneath.

He jumps as his pocket begins to buzz, startling the teen before he remembers his cell phone. He pulls the small, grey flip phone from his pocket and flips it open as he places it to his ear. He forces his breathing to ease as he answers the phone with a shaky, "Hello?"

"Marik! Where are you?" Bakura's voice inquires, and Marik could swear that there is actually worry in his voice.

"Why would you want to come find me?" He asks, his voice still quivering as he speaks.

"You are my friend, you damn wanker! I care about you, sometimes too much. So, where the blooddy hell are you?" Bakura yells at the blond, who feels a twinge of... Something.

"I'm under some highway," He whispers. "Bakura, could you bring my shirt and whatever else I had left? And maybe a Dr. Pepper?"

Bakura sighs at the Egyptian's last request. "Sure; you just wait there."

Marik nods before remembering that this is a phone conversation and he replies, "Okay."

"I'll be there soon." And then Bakura hangs up.

Marik plops down on the dirt, a few different thoughts running through his head.

For starters, Bakura said he cared about Marik, too much sometimes, too. That made Marik's heart practically leap out of his chest knowing that the often disagreeable teen cared for him.

Another thought kept wiggling it's way into Marik's consciousness: what did Bakura mean by 'too much'? The way he said it makes Marik think... Well, Marik isn't sure what he thinks. He only knows what he hopes it means: love.

And lastly, how the hell did Bakura get his number?

* * *

><p>Bakura stops his and Ryou's car along the side of the highway, right before a bridge that goes over the state park in Domino City. He was hoping he was right to think Marik was hear, but seeing as it was one of the several highway bridges, he wasn't too sure.<p>

He exits the black '74 Bradley Gt and slides gently down the hill. As he nears the bottom, he hears a distinct whimper that could only belong to his blond. He rounds the corner and sure enough, there's the shirtless- but wrapped up- blond, huddled in a ball on the ground. He clears his throat and the boy immediately looks up and frowns.

"You didn't bring my shirt? Hell, you could've at least brought me the damn Dr. Pepper-" The Egyptian begins to complain and Bakura rolls his eyes.

"It's all in the car, now c'mon." Bakura instinctively grabs Marik's hand and pulls him out of his hiding place and up the hill, not noticing the light blush that is barely noticeable on tan skin.

Bakura opens the driver door and reaches in to grab a small bag containing bandages, a new white button down shirt, new blue jacket, and a ice cold can of Dr. Pepper. He steps aside an motions for the still slightly pink blond to crawl through to the passenger side. The teen complies, maneuvering his way into the passenger seat and sitting down. He winces as his back touches the seat and immediately leans forward, not even thinking about the seat belt.

Bakura notices his discomfort and immediately rummages through the bag for the bandages and sits in his seat, door still open. He begins to unroll it while leaning towards Marik, "Here, let me change those. They look attrocious." And with that he sets the unrolled portion of bandage aside and begins removing the one already encasing the boys torso.

"'Kura-"

"Don't even think about protesting. Now, stop fidgeting or this will hurt." Bakura growls as he continues to unwrap the tan tries desperately to fight his urges as he shudders under the Brit's touch, biting his bottom lip firmly. He hears a gasp as the bandages are finally pulled away and can only guess the reason his companion is shocked: his father had carved duel monster cards and Egyptian scriptures into his back.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Bakura hisses, his anger hitting Marik in waves.

"Because you would act like this." Marik replies, snatching the new bandage away and wrapping it quite painfully around himself.

Bakura rolls his eyes once more after his wave of anger passes because of Marik's pain. He swats Marik's hands away from the bandage and proceeds to take it in his own hands and wrap it around the boy's torso. His hands move nimbly around the cuts, trying- and succeeding- not to make him wince.

Before Marik notices, Bakura is pulling the new shirt on him, buttoning it up quite slowly. He feels that light blush reappearing and sits on his hands so he won't act too impulsively. After Bakura finally finishes dressing him, Marik sits back, finding it not quite as painful as it was before. Suddenly, a can of ice cold deliciousness is plopped onto his lap and he squeals with joy.

"Thanks, Kitty!" Marik chirps, snatching it up and popping it open so the nectar can slide gracefully down his parched and eager throat.

Bakura rolls his eyes at the name, remembering how Marik's dad had called him fluffy. It was different if the boy used one of these nicknames, though; Bakura assumed it meant he loved him.

Well, Bakura hopes that's what it meant.

* * *

><p>"'Kura, where the hell are we?" Marik inquires after waking up from the mini coma, as Bakura refers to it, he had slipped into. He looks around to see that he is in what is obviously a hotel room, and a very shitty one at that. His eyes wander down to where he lies under probably the stiffest comforter ever on the plushest mattress ever. Someone had changed his clothes, so he now wore a pair of silky royal purple pajamas.<p>

Bakura scoffs from where he sits on the bed next to the thoroughly confused blond, "Somewhere safe."

"Did you _**CHANGE**_ me?" Marik inquires, still marveling at how delightful the new pajamas feel.

"No, bloody Santa Claus did! Of course I did!" Bakura scowls at the blond, but his expression immediately changes as the teen leans over and gives him a kiss on the cheek. The albino suddenly blushes brightly, and Marik laughs. After Bakura regains his composure, he scowls at the boy once more, "Do you just go kissing everyone?"

Marik frowns at the accusation, "No. I was just thanking you, gosh. Don't go and," Marik made an odd face that almost made Bakura laugh, "Get your knickers on a twist."

The Brit, having caught the joke just glares at the boy. Sometimes he didn't know why he loved Marik; the boy was positively rude! But, the feelings he felt around the blond were some of the few Bakura was actually able to feel nowadays. Marik was the one person who could fill the emptiness.

But, did Marik feel the same? That kiss on the cheek said he did, but then again-

"Earth to 'Kura!" Marik yells, waving his hands in front of the brown- tinted crimson eyes. Bakura hisses in reply, causing the Egyptian to laugh at him. "GEEZUS, Kitty!" Marik giggles.

Bakura glares at the violet eyed blond through shaggy white bangs. This was one of those times he questions his love of said teen. "You are an ass." He states bluntly, smirking at the furrowing of the blond's eyebrows. "And your eyeliner is smeared."

Marik gasps before leaping up and scurry to the bathroom where a string of Arabic swears begins to trail from. Bakura hears the faucet turns on, and then a series of splashes. He stands up and goes to the still open-doored bathroom. He walks in to a soaking wet blond who has finally removed his eye liner, at the cost of getting his hair sopping wet.

"A little overboard, don't you think so?" Bakura teases the boy before him who scowls.

Marik scowls before his expression changes to one of curiosity, his short attention span kicking in, "Hey, Kitty, how'd you get a hotel room? You're only 16."

Bakura smirks, "Ryou and I may be 16, but our older brother Akefia is 20. He rented the room for us."

Marik's eyes go wide, "You mean Scarface? I thought he hated me!"

Bakura chuckles, a deep, soothing noise. "He doesn't, that's just how he shows he cares, by hating you."

Marik frowns at this, trying desperately to process this information. Unfortunately, it seems his hair color is getting in the way. Finally, he speaks once more, "'Kura, did you say 'us'? Are you staying here too?"

* * *

><p><em>AN- CLIFFY!_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_Hey, I have to question_

_What's with the violent aggression?_

_Details blurry, lost him too early_

_Welcome to the family_

* * *

><p><em>"Are you staying here too?"<em>

* * *

><p>Bakura feels the blush threatening to return, so he spins around. "Of course I am! Traumatized people such as yourself often try to commit suicide; Ryou would kill me if I let that happen." If I didn't killmyself first, Bakura thinks.<p>

A pair of arms wraps around him and he feels a wet warmth snuggle against his back. "Thanks, Bakura," Marik whispers, happy that the Brit had yet to push him away.

Bakura was frozen; Marik was hugging him, and he was_** HAPPY**_ this time. The twin was is so conflicted about what to do, his heart screaming hug him back, his mind saying push him away. What would make his Marik happiest, because that is how he wants him to stay.

Having finally decided- somewhat- how he should react, Bakura slowly turns in the blond's grasp and wraps his arms around the boy timidly. His grip tightens, having officially become sure of his decision, holding the Egyptian close to him.

Marik's heart does little somersaults as he rests his head on Bakura's shoulder, inhaling deeply as the scent of sunscreen wafts off the boy. Marik fights the urge to start crying, but is, of course, unsuccessful. Tears begin to trickle down tan skin and over the gentle smile, plopping onto the striped shirt beneath.

Marik's crying does not go unnoticed as a streak of panic runs through Bakura's finally apeased heart. He immediately goes into protective mode, something beforehand reserved for only Ryou, "What's wrong Marik? I thought you were happy." He begins to gently stroke the Egyptian's back, not even thinking twice about his actions.

"I AM happy," Marik whispers into the whitette's ear. "I can cry if I friggin' want to," He grumbles, smiling into the white mess of hair. "Wanker." He chuckles weakly as he shudders, Bakura's hand ghosting over his spine. A moan escapes his lips, and he quickly slams his hand over his mouth, his tan skin turning crimson.

"Oh, someone likes this, eh?" Bakura teases, his hand going over that spot once more, another moan escaping the boy in his arms. He was mentally scolding himself for being so perverted, but his heart thought he'd been tame long enough.

"'Ku-Kura, don't." Marik pleads, but as he clings to Bakura, he knows that he would want anything other than this stopping.

Bakura does stop, though, and he grabs Marik's shoulders and hold him arms length away. There's a fleck of something just barely tangible to the blond in his eyes: worry. "Listen, Marik," Bakura begins to spill his feelings to the boy. "I haven't known you long- well, I've known you since fourth grade, but not well- and I-I never really planned on getting to know you," Bakura felt anxiety tugging at his heart. "I l-" He freezes as a pair of lips connect with his own, violet eyes staring into his.

"GEESUZ, 'Kura!" Marik complains, pulling away. "Don't get anxious; it's so not you."

Bakura stares at the boy, confused. This is the second time Marik had kissed him in like five minutes now. Either Marik was a whore, or he likes Bakura. Personally, the elder Touzoukou twin hoped for the latter. Bakura decides to get answers, "What's with you, Ishtar? You keep kissing me, and I would appreciate it if you would-" He stops in his tracks once more as Marik smashes his lips against Bakura's, this time continuing to move his lips against the albino's. Bakura takes a second to compute this before his hormones kick in and he holds Marik close as the two make-out.

Needless to say, Bakura received his answer, and then some.

* * *

><p>As the two lay there in a happy haze, Marik starting to drift off to sleep in pale arms, his head rested on a well sculpted chest. Bakura ran his fingers lazily through blond hair, his heart at peace. That is, until a specific thought popped into his head.<p>

Marik had to go back home eventually, didn't he? No one knew where he was except for Bakura, Ryou, and Akefia. Would someone send out a search party for them? They had been gone for a good two days now; and they had left on a Monday.

"Hanzai," Bakura whispers, "We can't stay here forever." He states solemnly, his eyes trained on the boy, waiting for a reaction.

Marik finally sighs, snuggling closer to the boy under the comforter that now seemed to be like feather down. "I know, Kitty," He murmurs, his voice sad and loathing what his partner must mean. "But, why should we go back?" He rolls onto his belly and props himself up on his elbows so he can watch the other teen. "Why can't we just runaway together? We could tell Ryou and Scarface if you really felt the need to, so they would know how to contact us. We would have nothi-"

Bakura scowls at what the boy is about to say, knowing very well what it could mean. "Marik, we can't just runaway from our problems. This one we have to face," Bakura grabs one of Marik's hands in his own. "But, we will face it together."

Marik smiles a cheesy grin, all the while rolling his eyes, "Anyways," Marik says, lying back down on the Brit's chest. "What do you want to do?"

Bakura smirks, swiftly flipping them so he is on top of Marik, "I have a few ideas."

Marik giggles, leaning up to plant a quick kiss on his lips. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

><p>Bakura awakens to something cold and sharp pressed against his neck and a hand covering his eyes. He tries to move the hand away with his own, only to find them bound behind him. He then notices the rag stuffed in his mouth, and ducktape holding it in place. He wiggles slightly, very careful of what he assumes is a knife to his neck.<p>

"Listen closely," A gruff voices commands. "You will keep quiet, wait until I leave, then you can try and free yourself. If you try to fidget anymore, I'll do to you what I did to your friend. Got it?" The knife just barely knicks Bakura's neck, and the Brit in turn growls before what the man said hits him.

* * *

><p><em>"If you try to fidget anymore, I'll do to you what I did to your friend."<em>

* * *

><p>Marik was hurt, Bakura could feel it. Just as soon as he finally gets Marik to himself, someone has to hurt him.<p>

"Now, I am going to leave. If you try to get help from anyone, I will find out, and you will die, got it?" Bakura only nods his head slightly, afraid of the knife touching his flesh. The object is suddenly pulled away, but his eyes are still covered. "Shut your eyes, and keep them shut until you hear the door shut, k?" Bakura nods, not quite worrying about the knife anymore as he slams his eyes shut and feels the hand leave his face. He stays where he sits quietly, until the door finally shuts.

He doesn't open his eyes when the door shuts, or when he finally falls out of the chair he was in. He only decides to open his eyes because of a faint groan he hears erupt out of the silence. As soon as the familiar sound hits his ears, his eyelid fly open and he is at Marik's side.

Marik lies on their bed, his blood drenching the sheets from Ra only knows how many different cuts he had. His hair has a few random chunks cut out of it, but nothing to major. What really worries Bakura is what appears to be a stab wound in his left shoulder, and another on his right.

Violet eyes open slowly and find the albino's face, or so he thought, because they keep searching. "'Kura? Where are you?"

Bakura feels his heart literally break then and there. He closes his eyes long enough to muster up a bit of his forbidden power, as much as he could without Ryou and the ring with him, and the binds on his body seem to fade away. He grab the boys blood covered hand in his own, "Right here, Hanzai. Right here. I'm going to get help, okay? Can you hold on for a second?"

Marik smiles drunkenly, "Of course I can."

Bakura plants a light kiss on the blond's forehead, blood casting a light red tinge to his pale pink lips. He immediately goes to where he left his phone and dials the first number that comes to mind.

* * *

><p>Hello? What do you need, Bakura?/

* * *

><p>\Akefia, I need your help. It's happening.\<p>

* * *

><p>... I'm on my way./

* * *

><p><em>AN-And the plot thickens! So, I finally brought the millennium objects in(kinda). And, of course, something bad happens to Marik and-_

_Kevyn: What do you mean when you made Bakura say, "It's happening."?_

_Me: ~.~ You thinks since we share a body and a mind, you would know this._

_Bakura: Well, I would like to know why you keep making my bloody Hanzai get hurt!_

_Marik: Yeah, why is it always me who gets hurt? :( It's not fun, ya know._

_Me: -facepalm- Kevyn, could you handle the readers while I handle these two?_

_KEvyn: Sure. As Mags was about to say, there is still 11 more chapters to go in this story, so do not think of this as a climax. Anyways1_

_Mags and Kevyn: Review please!_

_Kevyn: Hey, where'd Marik and Bakura go?_

_-Mags shutters and whispers to Kevyn-_

_Kevyn: Don't scar me. That's my job XD  
><em>


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